


Spoils of War

by PalomaD



Category: The Mummy Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PalomaD/pseuds/PalomaD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Medjai Chieftain takes a much needed break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The character of Ardeth Bay is the property of Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. The situations and all other characters were created and owned by the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

There was a man standing in the doorway of her tent.  Veiled, dressed in black robes, a scimitar hanging by his side.  He had appeared there silently, like a ghost, or a shadow, and the woman gasped and took a step backwards.

“You know who I am.”  His voice was dark velvet.  It was a statement, not a question.  Of course she knew who he was.  Ardeth Bay, Chieftain of the twelve tribes of the Medjai.  A ruthless warrior who could destroy without mercy and without conscience any and all who would seek to plunder Hamunaptra or any of the other secret sites the Medjai protected.  The dark red stains on his robes hinted at something the woman did not even want to imagine.  The woman nodded, her eyes lowered, only daring a quick glance at his face. 

“You are alone.”  Another statement.  He knew she was alone, he had been watching her from the ridge.  He had seen her walk to the bathing tent and then back to her own tent, her hair still pinned up from her bath, allowing a small smile to grace his full lips when he thought of what he was about to do.

The woman backed up, still clutching her towel.  “My husband,” she started, then faltered at the predatory gleam in the man’s eyes.  “My husband is to return home today, my lord.”

“Pray that no one bothers us while we are otherwise engaged,” he sneered.  While he spoke, the man had been removing his turban.  Now he also removed his bandoleers and his scimitar, which he lay on a low table.  As he removed his robes, he looked at the woman as if noticing her for the first time.

“Remove your robe,” he commanded.

She backed away and suddenly a small dagger appeared in the Medjai’s hand.  “Please, lord,” she whispered.

“Take it off or I will be pleased to cut it off for you.”

Slowly she began to untie her sash, but did not remove it.  Another gesture from the dagger and she shrugged her robe off her shoulders and let it drop to her feet. 

“Now unpin your hair.”  She did, her fingers trembling.

“Shake your head.”  Her hair cascaded like black silk down her back.

The man sighed contentedly. He put the dagger on the table with the rest of his weapons, and with a quick movement of his hand he released his manhood from his pants.

The woman stood transfixed.  She felt she should not look, but she could not help it.  He was big.  Bigger than she remembered a man could be.  His erection seemed like a living thing, straining out at her.  At last she dragged her gaze up towards his face.  His goatee, which would normally have been well trimmed, gave evidence that the Medjai had been away from razor and water for a time. The skin around his eyes was tanned darker than the rest of his face, indicating that he had been out unsheltered in the desert.  Probably on patrol, she thought, without the company of women.  And now here he was in her tent.  She quickly lowered her eyes again, only to find she was again gazing at his shaft.

The man smirked as he watched the woman’s gaze drawn to his manhood.  “Now come here and take me in your mouth,” he ordered, indicating his erect member.

As if hypnotized, the woman approached and sank to her knees.  He was too big for her to fit all of him in her mouth, so she grasped the bottom of his shaft in her left hand and took the tip and as much of the rest as she could in her mouth.  The man reached down and brushed the hair away from her face.  He wanted to enjoy watching her lips on him.

Perhaps the woman thought that if she pleasured him this way, that would be the end of it.  The Medjai was certainly enjoying it, emitting low sounds of pleasure.  And truth be told, the woman was beginning to feel the first stirrings of arousal.  Medjai men were known to be attractive, and this one was more handsome than most.  Although his clothes were dusty, his dark hair, thanks to the protection of his turban, curled softly and cleanly down to his shoulders.  The tribal tattoos on his forehead and cheeks emphasized the patrician lines of his face.  His arms and chest were also decorated with tattoos, which only served to accentuate the ridges and planes of his muscles.  And his lips!  The woman blushed at the thought of what those full lips would feel like on her. 

As her naked breasts rubbed up against the rough fabric of his pants, the woman realized she was enjoying the sensation.  She knew this was unseemly and she should stop, but she did not.  She wondered if the man noticed this.  To draw his attention elsewhere, she snaked her right hand into the opening of his drawstring pants and cupped his scrotum, squeezing gently as she drew his manhood deeper into her mouth.  Soon she felt his scrotum contracting and knew his orgasm was near.

“Enough!” the Medjai groaned, his voice ragged. 

The woman disengaged hands and mouth.  She realized, and tried to ignore, the fact that the tingling in her nipples was echoed by a similar sensation between her legs.  “Does this not please you, my lord?” she asked with eyes lowered. 

“I will not spill my seed in your mouth.  I have other plans.”  His dark eyes flashed dangerously and the woman knew exactly what those plans were.  “Now get on the bed.  Now!”  He reached down and took her by the arm, propelling her towards the bed.  She rolled onto her side and tried to cover herself with a blanket but he immediately pulled it off her.

Removing his pants and boots, the Medjai got down on the bed beside her.  “Roll over and spread your legs.”  She did not move.  “Roll over and open your legs or I will open them for you.”  She rolled over, her legs still locked tightly together, her hands between them as if for protection.  The man moved her hands away and replaced them with his own, prying her legs apart. He began to rub her between her legs, brushing one long finger against her mound.

“You are all wet!” he exclaimed in what might have been surprise, or maybe triumph.  The woman whimpered as she tried to get away from that probing digit.  But the Medjai was the stronger of the two and continued rubbing her most sensitive place . 

Suddenly he swooped two fingers deep inside her, eliciting a gasp from her.  “You are very wet, and very tight,” he murmured with satisfaction.  He was half over her, his erection resting like a log on her thigh.  With the two fingers still inside her he took his other hand and resumed rubbing her now swollen nub. 

“Very tight,” he whispered, almost to himself.  “You need to be opened up a bit.”  With that he slowly spread his fingers apart, still inside her.

The whimpers turned to a gasp as the woman felt herself being stretched open.  A combination of both pain and pleasure.  Then completely pleasure.  The man looked up from his ministrations.  “Do you like this?” he smirked.  His other hand continued to rub her. “Does anyone else do this to you?”  He continued pumping his fingers into her, opening and closing them as he did. 

“N….n…no!  No one but you!”  When the man finally stopped for a moment, the woman moaned and lifted her hips, seeking more contact.

Now he knew she was ready for him, and he lost no time replacing his hands with his raging erection.   With one thrust he was completely inside her.  She was hot, and tight, and very wet, and he pistoned inside her, each thrust deeper than the last.

And as for the woman, there was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to be impaled on his shaft.   Remembering how big he was, she thought she would be split in two, and somehow that aroused her even more.  But when her climax came she clawed at his back with her nails and screamed her husband’s name.

It seemed like it was over all too soon.  The man lay on his back, stretching contentedly like a lion.  The woman recovered the discarded towel and tried to clean herself off.  The man turned to her lazily.  “You have pleased me well,” he purred.  “Do you have any request that I might grant?”

The woman looked at him, now raising her eyes to his.  “I would ask this, my lord.”  Suddenly, her eyes flashed impishly. “That next time, could you try to be home on time?”

And Ardeth Bay gently kissed his wife on the forehead and tenderly enfolded her in his embrace.  “Your wish is my command, my lady,” he chuckled, as she snuggled happily into his arms.

On the ridge, the Medjai sentry watched as the lamp was extinguished in his chieftain’s tent.  His lord was back from patrol, back with his lady wife, and all was right with the world.

 


End file.
